Blood People
Blood People poem stories
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hippolyta
hippolytajust a kid
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
just another poem about love and violence and a girl loving girls

Blood People

hippolyta

Jeans torn and nose broken twice and a half, cracked teeth in a ripped mouth filled with thick metal

It comes with the night and sways with the tides, this hate and hunger, this lust and thunder, burning hot and bitter making girls kiss girls and making boys turn away.

Little dreams of subtracting and nightmares of multiplying winding through my hair and wrinkling my roots.

I dreamed of her body against mine, I dreamed of sine and sin I dreamed of the midnight bloom and lightning turning over graves.

Eyes burn bloodshot after sleepless nights tracing my fingertips along the gentle curves of a dream.

I wondered why nobody's heart pumps and spins and rolls like mine when her fists ball and

incisors grow, when the wolf people growl and tumble beneath the bushes clawing and scraping to reach the wild hunt.

The demons rumble under my bed knocking on wood asking me to come

out and play along the slippery riverbanks of her thighs, collarbone, throat, to tag along the crook of her knee and chase along the palm of her hand, the nape of her neck.

Sneaking whispers into all my tendencies, curves and graphs, plotting plans towards her and falling short, a block and a half away,

I wished myself closer and found myself asymptotic all over again.

I wish myself away, away roughing with the wolf people thick with blood and life, sighing when the sun breaches,

back into the grey and sunsets, back into one plus one when my heart beat blood and my knuckles tasted knives.

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